


Trust

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Demonstuck [19]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demonstuck, If you're under 18 this is not for you sorry, M/M, Oral Sex, probably badly written, this would not leave my head until i wrote the fucker down sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: I don't have a summary.If you're under 18 please go away.





	Trust

Karkat never stops touching you, even when he pauses to sift through your head, make sure you're still alright. Not that he really needs to do that—you're damn near out of your own head and in his instead, at this point, feeling every move he's going to make before he makes it, half-lost in the double sensations of his hands caressing their way down your body and of what _he_ feels as he presses against you, hips grinding down against yours, muffling the gasps and soft sounds you make with a kiss. 

"Jesus, 'kat, _please,_ " you gasp out when the demon draws back. 

Karkat catches your hands when you try to grab at his shoulders to pull him back down, though, bright eyes studying yours as he holds you steady. He's not completely still even now, thank god; he's still rocking slightly on top of you, the cloth of his shorts and the hardness under them giving you friction against sensitive skin that has you biting down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. 

"Please," he echoes back, voice both softer and rougher than yours. More controlled. He's in control, but you're in his head. You're okay. It's okay. "You're sure? Dave—" 

You cut him off the best way you can—not with your voice, not with your hands, but by jerking your hips up against him, gasping again at that fucking feeling of pressure and friction on your dick. _And_ at the feeling in your head, not your sensations but his, the pure pleased gratification of knowing that you want him, you want him as much as he wants you, which is—

_Ahh. Shit—I love you, I want you, more, holy fuck, Karkat, please, I want—_

He laughs, surprisingly breathless, and leans in to find your mouth one more time before he lets go of your hands, shifting his weight on top of you. You can't help the whimper that comes out of your mouth when you lose the contact on your dick, but he's immediately wrapped around your mind like a promise, like a fucking touch-free kiss, like a taste of what he's going to do. 

Even as fucked up with desire as you are right now, you start laughing when you read Karkat's intention out of his head. It's fucking _ironic,_ isn't it? Isn't this usually, like, a vanilla thing? Kinda? And yet here you are, the one who's been fucked more ways than you wanna think about, so fucking _surprised_ that there's definitely something you've never had done to you. 

No. Not _to_ you, but _for_ you. _With_ you.

Yeah, that's it—the big fucking difference between him and Bro. One of 'em, anyway—it's the difference between having shit done _to_ you, or doing this _with_ him. Because even if you're not doing anything but lying as still as you can get (not very; Karkat's breath on you, his hands gently rubbing at your thighs, the way he keeps his eyes on your face, that all has you squirming, damn close to jerking your hips up pleadingly, if you don't force yourself not to), panting and stifling moans and _watching_ him—even if he's the one leading here, you're still following him willingly. Not, not—not just _submitting,_ accepting, not just taking what you're pushed into—

"Dave," Karkat whispers, his lips actually brushing against the head of your dick—holy _shit_ , he's barely touching you and you're still making the kind of noises that belong in the porn collection of an audiophile— "I love you, but you need to stop _thinking._ " 

You're wound up enough in his head that you can grin at him and _try_ to hold still, and tell him, "Dunno, man—you might need to make me do tha—oh, _god—_ " 

The word becomes a moan that you can't even try to stifle, as Karkat settles himself between your legs and dips his head down to take you in his mouth. It's wet, hot, his tongue's moving in a way that you _know_ is tailor-suited to what you need, and even before he starts sucking you're half out of your mind. 

Then he does suck, long and gentle as he dips his head down to get more in his mouth, and you hear yourself make a choked, overwhelmed noise through his senses, see your head tip back as your back arches and your hips thrust up against him. Which means there's more of your dick in his mouth, with how sudden that movement was he couldn't pull back—

_Now why the fuck would I want to pull back?_ he thinks at you, and makes some kind of noise without pulling off your cock. You don't know what kind of noise. You can't hear anything but the desperate sounds you're making yourself, but you sure as hell feel the vibration through your cock. 

"Holy shit, _god_ , Karkat, _Karkat_ —" 

His name spills out of your lips, then gets lost in another moan as he pulls halfway off and wraps his hand around your shaft, stroking just a couple times. He _has_ to know how that feels, your mind's so open to him that he must be getting every ounce of sensation, every bit of what he's doing to you. 

" _Please,_ " you beg, and you don't know if it's out loud or just in your head, but Karkat hears you either way. 

_Anything for you,_ he tells you silently, and moves his hand out of the way so he can bob his head down again. After the moment of cool air on damp skin, his mouth seems even hotter than before, enough to make you almost scream and thrust up into his mouth—

No, not even just his _mouth_ now, because as you jerk up Karkat dips down. His halo flickers into existence above his horns, and sharp claws trace oh-so-gently over your thighs as he just...lets you fuck his throat. 

_God, please don't let me hurt him,_ the part of you that remembers what it feels like to have a cock shoved down your throat thinks. 

Then Karkat pushes into your mind again, letting you feel what he's feeling, taste what he's tasting ( _oh fuck oh fuck oh_ fuck), hear you damn near screaming for him as he swallows around your dick, throat tightening around the head as his mind falls into yours and your mind falls into his and you both feel the fucking _blinding_ pleasure as you howl his name, completely fucking failing to warn him before you cum down his throat. 

There's so much sensory input. So many sensations. For some length of time, you disconnect from whatever the hell your body's doing and just drift, high off sex and magic and _Karkat_. 

When you come down a little, the demon's wrapped you in the blanket, ditched the little clothing he was wearing, and settled down beside you, pulling you into his arms. He's still awake, eyes open but unfocused, blinking slowly at you with a hazy smile that has a definite meaning to you. A meaning that you're kind of relieved at, even if that's selfish as fuck to think— 

"Shut _uuuup_ ," Karkat drawls out before you can let that train of thought head for another station, pulling you up closer to give you a sweet, gentle kiss. "It's not fucking selfish when you got me off, dumbass." 

"Like I had anything to do with it," you scoff at him, squirming until you free up a hand to smooth his hair out of his eyes. He's blissed out, yeah, but you're aware that he did all the work for it. Kind of untrue to say you got him off. 

He growls lazily at you, shifts to roll onto his back and pull you to lay on his chest, rather than next to him. "You're the one who opened the empath link that far." 

"So? That's not—" 

" _Shh._ " This time, Karkat shuts you up with a deep kiss. You can taste just a hint of yourself in his mouth; it's different when it's on your own tongue, almost enough to make you want to go again. He pulls back while you're still trying to think about that. "It takes a fuck of a lot of trust to open your mind that much." 

"I trust you." 

"I know." The demon makes a soft sound and tightens his arms around you; the inherent promise of protection in that motion sends a spark of warmth through your chest. "I love you." 

_I love you too,_ you think at him without hesitation. _So fucking much. You're my world, you're everything. I'm yours, always._

Out loud you say, "Damn, I hope you love me. Otherwise I'd feel weird about having you blow me—" 

His complaining growl and the way he swats your bare shoulder before he pulls you into another kiss is very understandable. But the whole time, he's answering what you didn't say aloud, telling you that he loves you, that he's yours, that nothing will ever change this. 

And in the end, that's all you want or need.


End file.
